Balmaha was bursting with holidaymakers. Cars were double and triple parked in the car park next to the visitor centre and more were nosing around looking forlornly for a space. Every table at the front of the Oak Tree Inn was occupied and it was only by heading through the pub then around the back to beyond a marquee that we found a quiet spot to sit and quench our thirst.   The pub was still working to covid rules, which meant ordering and paying via an app and hoping that the drinks would arrive at our far distant table some time in the near future.  As we meandered through the pub looking for a table we spotted that those who were dining were staring glumly at some pretty workmanlike food offerings and we were glad that we had stocked up on lunch items earlier in the Spar shop in Drymen.   One of the good things about finding a pub was that it enabled us to use the facilities. The West Highland Way this morning had offered panoramic views and anyone wanting to do ‘a wildy’ - as a n

The Way doesn’t actually enter Drymen, it skirts around the eastern edge before turning and heading off to the north.  As we left the village ahead of us i n the dazzling sunshine we could make out the outline of a lone hiker tottering under the weight of her backpack, occasionally stopping to rearrange her load. We quickly caught up with our photographer from yesterday morning, who although cheerful, seemed to us to be finding her load a heavy one. To my eye she had a sixty-five litre pack that was ready to burst. She told us she hadn’t just come to walk the Way but spend about a month exploring the UK and our impression was that she had brought all of her supplies with her. We quickly outpaced her, indeed we were outpacing most of the other hikers that we met on these early stages.   During our preparation for the walk, as we don’t have anything that could realistically be called a hill in Essex, Chris had slowly but surely upped the speed that we walk at. We did the same before walk